


He wants Wenia

by Carter_Ash_Official



Series: A Reluctant Inquisitor [7]
Category: swtor - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7906996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carter_Ash_Official/pseuds/Carter_Ash_Official
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andronikos misses Wenia</p>
            </blockquote>





	He wants Wenia

He wasn’t bothered by the fact that something was off between them. Just as well that they figured that out now instead of a couple months further down the road. Yeah. So he wasn’t bothered by it anymore. And if she wanted to sleep with that creepy Sith guard with the red eyes, she could. He wasn’t jealous.

Wasn’t jealous _at all_.

Which was why he was in the servants’ quarters with a stable maid while she was with that Sith and it didn’t bother him. Had he told himself that enough?

But this stable maid wasn’t Wenia. She was bony and dark-eyed and had practically jumped on him when he’d hit her with a half-assed pick-up line. He didn’t know her name, he hadn’t wanted to know, because what Andronikos Revel wanted was upstairs with someone else.

He searched around for his pants. They had to be here somewhere.

The maid pulled her wild hair over one shoulder and gave him a look that made him stop searching for… what was it? Pants.

There they were, one leg sticking out from under the bed.

He pulled them on. And buckled his battered belt over them.

The maid pulled him down to sit on the bed, snaking her arms around his chest, pressing her lips against his shoulder. Hard lips that didn’t pucker when she was deep in thought, or peel back in outrage, or twist upward in a crooked smile because of her burn. These lips weren’t sweet and plump.

They weren’t Wenia’s lips.

Andronikos turned and gave the stable maid a rough kiss on her angular cheek. A ‘goodbye, never going to see you again’ kiss.

The maid wasn’t happy with that. She climbed into a sitting position on his lap and her hands caressed his neck, his head, his shoulders. His hands responded by settling on her waist, a tight, muscular waist that felt wrong for him somehow. It should be rounder, softer, not firm but made of delicate pillows.

He pulled out of the embrace, untangling his fingers from her hair that was too knotted, too dark. It wasn’t the gray color of pale sand. It was black.

“I gotta go,” he said, swiping his coat from the hook by the door. He stepped out the door, fastening his armor over his shirt and trying to not recall amber eyes and scarred skin. Instead he went looking for whom they belonged to.

Where would she go when she and the Sith guard were done?

Andronikos headed to their guest rooms, waiting against the wall between doors.

A couple minutes later and she appeared around the corner. She caught sight of him and Andronikos could’ve sworn she looked relieved. She was holding her left arm still as she moved.

Wenia unlocked the door to her room and disappeared inside to return with a cloak. “I heard it was supposed to snow,” she said.

So now they’d hit the point where they talked about the weather.

“Great,” he stated.

She stepped closer to the wall, going completely still, eyes trained on the hallway she’d just come from.

“Well, that was… that was very pleasant, wasn’t it?” The Sith guard rounded the corner. He had a couple of scratches on his face. He was smiling at Wenia. “But I shouldn’t keep you any longer. You still have a great deal to do.”

Wenia’s smile was forced, Andronikos could see that much. “Thank you for the lovely time.”

Urtel stepped closer, still smiling. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Lord Zana. But I know I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” he paused and glanced at her shoulder, “as much as I want to.” He nodded to Andronikos and walked away.

“Well that took a while.” He’d wandered the Thul palace for a bit before he found his maid. Wenia looked at him, almost alarmed. “It’s alright,” he said to calm her. Something had happened to her. Maybe the Sith guard hadn’t been focused on her, maybe he did things differently. “I found my own tour guide. Sweet young lady that mucks out the thranta stalls. Almost nobility, but without the stink.”

She struggled pulling on her cloak and her voice shook. “The four of us could have a dinner party,” she said a little too quickly.

“She’s not the dinner party type,” Andronikos said as he helped her fix her cloak. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Wenia shook her head.

He didn’t believe her. But if she didn’t want to talk about it, fine. “’Kay then. We gotta take a thranta to get to House Rist. They ain’t wanting speeders to ruin the view.”

She walked next to him as they headed towards the stables. “Ever flown one before?”

“How hard can it be?”


End file.
